


Hello, I Love You

by oxymora (oxymoron)



Series: XMFC Crack Bingo [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Crack, Kidnapping, M/M, crack bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxymoron/pseuds/oxymora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Still feeling the aftereffects of the anesthetic a bit, I see. I’m really very sorry about that, my friend, but it seemed most convenient at the time.” (Written for my XMFC crack bingo, trope: kidnapping as courtship.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello, I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> Some time ago, folks in the #xmentales chat came up with crack bingo cards (special credit goes to unveiled, I think), so you know who's to blame ;). Thanks go to firstlightofeos for betaing (all remaining mistakes are mine).
> 
> This was written for my choice square, for which I chose kidnapping as courtship. There are several kidnapper!Erik fics around, so the chat decision was that Charles should get a turn.

  
Erik has been drugged often enough to recognize the unpleasant fuzzy feeling when he wakes up. He shoots up – the motion makes him slightly nauseous, but he pushes that aside – and takes in his surroundings. The room he’s in – paneled walls, rich carpets, polished wood and an actual chandelier – is one he’s never seen before. Not a good sign. He reaches for the nearest metal object (the brass lamp on the nightstand) and ruthlessly shapes it into a cudgel. Rough, but it will do.

Just as he is about to get up from the bed, the door opens. The man who strolls in (small, compact build, boyish face, impossibly blue eyes, tweed suit) is giving him a wide smile.

“Oh, you’re awake! Splendid! How are you feeling, Erik?”

Erik moves into a fighting stance, back against the wall, cudgel ready. This must be one of Frost and Shaw’s games – it’s like Emma Frost to send someone who looks like he was ripped straight out of Erik’s fantasies. (Well – maybe not the tweed. But then, clothes are removable, and as awful as the garment is, it’s not able to conceal broad shoulders and what looks like a really nice ass… He’s getting off track. Focus.)

“Who are you? What am I doing here?”

“Oh, of course, forgive me!” The man strides forward and offers his hand, beaming. To his surprise, Erik takes it.

“Charles Xavier.” The man firmly grips Erik’s hand with both of his own. “My very great pleasure, I have to say! And you are at my home in Westchester, New York. I hope you slept well?”

The man – Charles – studies him earnestly for a second. Erik finds himself utterly lost for a reaction of any kind. He belatedly notices that he has dropped the cudgel. Huh.

“Still feeling the aftereffects of the anesthetic a bit, I see. I’m really very sorry about that, my friend, but it seemed most convenient at the time.”

Erik finally manages to pull himself together enough to grind out, “What?!”

“It’s very simple, really, Erik – you don’t mind of I call you Erik, do you? I’m a telepath, and when I felt your mind last night – quite by accident, I assure you; I promise I don’t go around just habitually invading unsuspecting strangers’ privacy – I was immediately intrigued. You, my friend, have one of the most exquisite minds I have ever felt. I knew you were too busy to talk right then, so I took the liberty of bringing you here first.”

Charles beams.

“You drugged and abducted me on the day I was about to get to Frost to make small talk?”

“Oh, that. Actually, you were walking into a trap. It’s fine, I knocked them all out for you. They are upstairs in the attic, should be up in”—Charles glances at his watch—“two hours, give or take.”

“…You took out Frost and her minions and dropped them in your attic.”

“Yes, yes.” Charles waives a hand. “It’s not important right now; as I said, out cold for at least two more hours.”

“On a whim. Because you find my mind exquisite.”

“Oh, believe me, you are stunning.” Charles licks his lips and gives him a once-over that implies he’s not only talking about minds now, and Erik realizes that someone undressed him down to his briefs. He furiously suppresses a blush. From Charles’ raised eyebrow, his attempts to hide his embarrassment are unsuccessful. It takes him entirely too long to put two and two together. Of course he can’t hide anything from a telepath who apparently beat Frost.

“Get out of my head!” he bites out, and focuses hard on the image of two doors clanging shut. Charles winces.

“There’s no need to be rude, Erik. I wasn’t manipulating you!”

Erik shoots a significant glare at the brass cudgel on the floor.

“That was self-protection! I’m not suicidal!”

Erik reaches out for the weapon; to his relief, it springs into his hand. He grips the metal tightly, letting it calm him.

“Good.” He takes a step closer to this impossible man, ignoring Charles’ sharp inhale and widened eyes, and continues. “Here’s what we’re going to do: You are going to give me Frost and her minions, we leave, and if I ever see you again, it’ll be me who hits you over the head and asks questions later. And I can hit pretty hard.”

“But I haven’t even given you the tour yet!” Charles says imploringly. This close, his mouth looks impossibly red. “The grounds are lovely this time of year. Oh, and breakfast should be ready soon.”

Erik can feel the brass give under his hands at the sheer audacity of the man. “You kidnapped me! What makes you think I want a tour? Stay the hell away from me!”

Charles wilts. “Oh. I see. Of course.” Erik might be imagining things, but he thinks Charles’ lower lip actually wobbles. “I’m sorry I inconvenienced you. I’ll call a cab.”

Erik finds himself staring helplessly into a pair of too-blue puppy eyes. He reconsiders. Charles Xavier is obviously mad, but he seems to be quite powerful. Maybe it would be prudent to investigate the man and his mansion for a little longer.

He sighs. “I guess I could do with some breakfast before I leave.”

Charles positively glows at his words.

“Splendid! Tell me, Erik, do you play chess?”


End file.
